


A Brother's Love

by BlueEyedMrsBaelish



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Game of Thrones Spoilers, No Incest, Other, Post - Red Wedding, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 08 Finale, Queen Sansa, Robb Stark is a Gift, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 05:11:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18910231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyedMrsBaelish/pseuds/BlueEyedMrsBaelish
Summary: From the Red Wedding to her coronation, Sansa reflects on the death of her brother and best friend, Robb Stark.This is not an incest fic - pure family, platonic love/feelings.





	A Brother's Love

**Author's Note:**

> A post on Twitter stating that Robb would be proud of Sansa sparked this idea. It hurt me to write but I miss Robb Stark so enjoy the feels!

“Lady Stark --”

“Just /go/.”

The door closes and Sansa releases a shuddering sigh, unable to do anything for a few long moments except just… stand in place, one hand on her stomach, the other on her head.

The news had just reached King’s Landing that a wedding in the Riverlands had turned bloody, and almost all of the Stark bannermen and soldiers had been massacred. Among those killed had been Sansa’s mother, Catelyn Stark, and her brother, the King in the North, Robb.

𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘔𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘙𝘰𝘣𝘣. 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦, 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘦.

Her body begins to shake, the room caving in on her as she steps back, barely even noticing as her heels hit the nearest chair. Her legs give out and she collapses, the weight of it all hitting her at once.

Thousands of men and women, dead.

Her mother, dead.

Robb. 

Robb Stark, her eldest brother. The one who had gently teased her growing up, but was still her best friend.

Robb, the one who would tug on her pigtails and tell her she looked beautiful whenever she dressed up.

Robb, the one who gave her the best hugs and who promised her that he would challenge whatever man she was set to marry to make sure they were good enough for her, even though no one ever would be good enough for his sister in his eyes.

And now, he’s dead. Murdered by the Lannisters and by Walder Frey.

Sansa isn’t sure how long she’s been crying, only that her cheeks were soaked with tears and her throat was sore. She sobs for her family, for the loss of her beloved mother who brushed her hair and taught her to be a proper lady. For the victory Joffrey would be able to use as yet another thing to gloat over, another thing to throw at her when he’s feeling exceptionally vicious. For the thousands of men and women who died trying to protect her family.

For her brother, the King in the North, the one she had prayed for to the Old Gods and the New begging for him to kill Joffrey and bring her home. She longed to feel his hugs again, to hear him laugh and to feel him tug on her hair or kiss her forehead.

And now, she’d never see him again.

\--

“The Queen in the North! THE QUEEN IN THE NORTH!”

The words echo in Sansa Stark’s head as she makes her way to her chambers, her heart full and her mind racing. How had she gotten to this point? It was odd to think that she had walked these halls as a child, dreaming of the day she’d marry a prince or Knight and be the Lady of a castle one day, or even the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

How naive she had been.

The journey to this point had been a road of horrible things littered with moments of good. She’d been abused by Joffrey and Cersei, yet had learned how to survive by saying the right things. Cersei and Petyr had taught her much about how to rule, with Petyr especially teaching her all of the intricate details of political intrigue. She’d learned how to lie, how to manipulate, and how to blackmail. She’d lost her home, her family, and almost her life, but through learning how to play the game and watching and learning, she’d survived and had become stronger than ever. Arya, Jon, and Bran had survived with her.

𝘔𝘺 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘺, 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘭.

And now? Now, the White Walkers had been defeated, Bran was the ruler of the Six Kingdoms, Arya was off traveling, and Jon was at the Wall. Sansa had been crowned Queen in the North just hours before, and as she enters her chambers and locks the door for the evening she releases the sigh that she’s been holding in all day. 

Her fingers wrap around the goblet resting on the small end table near the fireplace, and soon Sansa is sitting in one of the chairs with wine in hand, eyes watching the fire as her mind wanders to those she’d lost. Ned and Catelyn, her father and mother. She had been so cruel to Ned before he died, something she found herself regretting every single day. She’d never been able to say goodbye to her mother, nor to Rickon.

And of course, Robb. He had been King in the North when she was still in King’s Landing, something she both had a hard time picturing yet also could understand. Robb had the Stark strength and the Tully attitude and looks, and she can just hear him commanding armies and charming nobles.

She just wished he could have been here today.

Fingers tighten around the goblet as the wine warms her stomach, allowing the tears in her eyes to spill over onto her cheeks. Gods, she wishes he was here. Sitting in the chair next to her, reaching over to wipe a tear before making some joke that would make her laugh. He’d smile and take her hand, giving her fake bad advice or making jokes about some of the nobles.

“Robb.” She speaks out loud, her voice soft and broken, her heart aching when she realizes she hasn't said his name aloud in years. Her eyes close and she can feel him near her, as if his arms are enveloping her from behind. “I miss you every day, big brother. So much has happened… I’m Queen now. Queen in the North. I remember when I heard about you being King in the North… I was so proud.”

She had been. Oh, she had been so proud. Terrified for him, but proud that it was Robb. The memory makes her choke back a soft sob, but she continues. “I just hope you’re proud of me, Robb. I hope I did you proud, our parents, baby Rickon. I hope that when we meet again, you can tell me you’re proud of me. Until then, this is for you.”

Her eyes stay closed for a few moments longer, relishing the feeling that he’s in the room with her. It goes away rather quickly when reality sets back in, eyelids fluttering open to see the fire and an empty chair. 

The sobs come harder now, and she leans forward to rest her head in her hands, allowing herself for the first time in over 4 years to truly feel the pain. The loss of her parents and brothers. The loss of her innocence, her home, albeit temporarily, of Theon and Lady.

Her cries echo in the room before she sits up, wiping her eyes and taking a deep breath. The pain begins to slowly fade as she comes back to the present. This was her life now. She’d survived in spite of everything and everyone that tried to stop her. She had pushed through the pain and learned how to live, and now she was ruling the North, her home, the people she loved. She would be reunited with her family someday, when she had lived the rest of her life.

As Sansa climbs into bed, she allows herself to think about her family one last time. Rickon. Ned. Catelyn. Robb. She whispers to herself one last thing before she eases into a deep sleep.

𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯; 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦.

**Author's Note:**

> I know the last line was in another of my fics - I wrote this for a friend so that line was for them. I swear I'm not that much of a hack ;)


End file.
